


Dear Dean

by heartheldhostage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confessions, Murder, Other, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 13:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14426430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartheldhostage/pseuds/heartheldhostage
Summary: This is Sam's last communication to his brother before Lucifer gets his yes.*****I am so, so sorry.*****





	Dear Dean

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't really edited this yet. I had to post it before I changed my mind. I will edit it when I crawled out of the corner in which I'm currently bawling like a baby.

Dear Dean,

I miss you. I've been trying to call, but, hell, I don't blame you for not answering. So I'm writing this letter because there are some things you need to know. 

Do you remember that night outside of Roswell when dad stuck us in a pit in the middle of the desert and left us? That was one of his more creative training exercises. We were stuck in the pit for four hours before we got out and then had to hike another three hours to get back to the motel.

You got so pissed at me because I went off on him as soon as we walked in the door. What I didn't tell either of you was the real reason I was pissed. I knew you had a date with Rhonda Hurley that night, Dean, and I'm pretty sure dad knew, too. He stuck you in that hole all night anyway.

Yeah, I know dad did his best. I see that now. What I saw then was the one person in this world who loved me most, the one person who was so full of goodness and didn't even realize it, being treated like shit by the person he admired most.

You were more of a father to me than dad ever was, Dean. I hated the way he treated you. You deserved so much more from him. You deserved so much more from me.

I thought that getting away from hunting and the temptation of demon blood would help me fight it. I was wrong. It just got worse after I walked away. I think I fell of the wagon. I'll explain that in a minute.

Whatever Cas carved into our ribs works. Lucifer can't find me, but he can get in my head through my dreams. He started out all charming and persuasive. When he couldn't get me to say yes, he became angry. He told me that this body isn't mine; it's his. He told me he was going to prove it to me.

He used my dreams to tempt me with blood. I wouldn't and still haven't willingly touched a drop. He started torturing me in my dreams. It was terrifying, Dean, but then it got so much worse. 

I woke up one afternoon with excruciating pain from the torture he put me through in my dream. It wore off by the time I went to work. A few days later, I woke up with blood running down the back of my legs from him raping me and open, bloody welts across my back from the whip he beat me with.

It kept progressing until I actually woke up with broken bones. The next time I passed out and woke up, I'd be healed of previous injuries, but suffering the ones from the latest dream. He's left me with cuts, bruises, broken bones, concussions, and worse, all from what he did to me in my dreams. It's almost like some bad Hollywood horror movie except that it's very real.

Two weeks ago, I dreamed of drinking blood while I let him fuck me. I woke up to the smell of sulfur and a body drained of blood in my room. My ass was sore and bloody, and there was come all over my face. I cleaned myself up, grabbed my stuff, wiped everything down, and took off. That happened two more times. By then I was begging him to fuck me and slitting the demon's throat myself.

I still refused to give him this body even though I can't call it mine anymore.

I've fought every way I can think of. I even put a bullet in my brain the night before I woke to the last drained demon.

The last time I slept, I dreamed he told me to meet him in Detroit. I refused, yet, somehow I'm sitting here in a Detroit motel room writing this. I don't even remember driving here. I'll get into the car to leave and find myself right back here. I can't leave. He truly is proving that this is his body.

I haven't slept in a week. I don't know how much longer I can hold out, but it won't be long. Dean, he told me that if I hold out much longer, he will kill you with his bare hands, slowly and painfully, and make me watch. Please, Dean, don't take him on. Run, please. I can't spend forever knowing that my hands killed you, that my face with my eyes so full of hate is the last one you saw.

I have so many regrets, not least of which is releasing that bastard from his cage. I should have listened to you, Dean. I was just so filled with anger that you, of all people, had to suffer again for me. All I could feel was a driving need for revenge.

My biggest regret is that I've let you down so much and so often, Dean. After all you've done for me, I'm just going to let you down again. By the time you read this, Lucifer will have his vessel. I don't want to say yes, Dean, but I can't fight him. I'm just not strong enough.

I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it. I don't want you feeling guilty. You couldn't have helped if you had been here. My choices did this to me, Dean. All you ever did was love and protect me.

I love you, Dean. I'm so damn sorry for everything.

Always,  
Your Sammy

 

 

It was a week after Cas told them Sam had said yes that Dean picked up the box of stuff his brother had mailed to Bobby for him. It was three weeks later that Dean was leading a camp of survivors. Croatoan had wiped out nearly half the population.

Six months after Sam said yes, Croatoan had wiped out over three quarters of the population. Dean finally broke down and read Sam's letter.

It was Bobby that found him. He was propped up in his bed with an empty whiskey bottle by his leg, his left hand on Sam's letter in his lap, his gun still loosely gripped in his right hand, and his brains splattered on the wall behind him.


End file.
